Black 'n White
by cheesydiva
Summary: A panicked Jack warns Elizabeth to look for the mark of a black bull on her arm, that its a matter of life and death. A new curse has arisen, and only Jack, Will and Elizabeth can stop it. Sucky summary.


A/N:  Dude, this took a long time to write!  And this was just the first chapter…more of a prologue than a chapter actually.  This is my first attempt at a POTC fic, so please, be gentle!  If it's bad, just tell me, I just wanna know!

_Disclaimer: I don't own it people, trust me!  Er…_ Chapter 1: A Sparrow Night 

***

The night was irresistibly calm and cool.  The smooth surface of the sea was enough to lull most of the sailors into uneasy sleeps.  The few left awake were in the galley, depleting the ship's supply of rum, and getting into drunken fights.

            The wind was cool and refreshing compared to the stuffy air inside the boat.  It blew through the portholes, calming the sailors, leaving them with the knowledge that it was one less night without the worry of a storm.

            It was what one might call a Sparrow night.

            The Black Pearl slid easily across the water, breaking the liquid's calm appearance.  The sound of the waves lapping up against the hull had become the sound of home to the men (and women) aboard.

            It was nights such as this one, when they sky was clear and the moonlight shone brightly on the deck, that people thought of Captain Jack Sparrow.  How, after he would order his crew to sleep after nights of tireless work, he would stand on deck, at the helm, and stare into the horizon, where the sea met the sky.  He would smile his crazy smile and sing his crazy song, and the crew could only wonder what he did on the deck while they slept.

            The irresistible breeze sweeping through his dreadlocks.

            Rarely was there time to think of the infamous Jack Sparrow anymore.  He was gone.

            Gone and dead and buried.

            A Sparrow night.

            It was what pulled her from her bed in the dank dark room that she affectionately called her own.  It was what pulled her onto the empty deck, where her and the wind could dance.

            The deck was devoid of life.  The wind gently tugging at the sails and the water lapping at the sides were the only sounds.  It was just so…_peaceful.  _You rarely got a moment to yourself on a pirate ship.

            The crew had respected their former captain's memory by avoiding the deck on nights such as this.  She had a brief image of the man standing at the wheel of the ship that he loved so much, staring into the horizon.  It was a touching picture.

            She walked to the starboard side and peered over the edge into the black water.  A smile found its way across her face as she thought about the future.  Her future in a new place.

            Her future with Will.

            The Black Pearl had been an odd escape for the couple, and she sometimes wondered why she had agreed to run away from Port Royal in the first place.

            But she knew the answer.  She wasn't given a choice.  She loved Port Royal, she loved her father, but there was nothing that they could give to her.  She wanted adventure, she wanted to be _doing _something instead of dressing up for another mindless event or party.

            And there was another reason.  Something the crew wouldn't tell her, something that Will wouldn't tell her, but they were more than just running.

            She was sure of it.

            The wind suddenly became more violent, whipping her hair out of its loose tie.  Clouds appeared across the sky, covering the once-brilliant stars.  Shadows peered around the mast and wheel, clouding her into darkness.  But the water was so entrancing that this was of little matter to her.

            Her reverie was unbroken by the heavy clumping of soggy footsteps.  The moonlight glared onto a new figure aboard the Black Pearl, one that had not been there only moments before.  He stood proud and tall, not swaying with the gentle motions of the ship as Elizabeth was.  He was a man who knew the seas, and who knew why he was here.

            He gently patted the cutlass that hung from his belt and approached her.  His footsteps clumped loudly on the ground with every step that he took but Elizabeth was too preoccupied to acknowledge them.  The sound of the sword being unsheathed did nothing to break her of her reverie.  It wasn't until a stinging pain hit her mid-thigh that she turned to acknowledge another presence.

            The man smiled, though she couldn't make out his features in the shadows.  He held his sword high above his head, a look of triumph across his lightly bearded face.  She looked down in shock at her now bleeding leg, only to realize that it had already soaked the front of her dress.  Panicked, she lifted the skirt to reveal a deep cut on her thigh.

            She watched as the thick liquid slid down her leg, only to be absorbed by the material of her clothes.   She felt a bit faint.  It spread across her clean dress and left it's mark in red.  She gasped as the wound opened more and blood slid down in long drops, dripping onto the wooden floor.  Staining the smooth surface.

            Another slash came at her back, and she could only imagine the dripping blood running down her spine.  Her eyes slid out of focus and she staggered slightly.  A distant laugh clouded her mind before the floor rushed up to meet her.  The wind tousled her hair slightly and the man standing over her seemed fascinated by it.

            He grabbed her by her hair, dragging her back onto her feet.  Again she felt blood sliding down her legs and back, and resisted the urge to vomit.  The pain was unbearable and she could only imagine what this crazy man would do to the rest of the crew, or to Will.  She bit her lip in a vain attempt to redirect the pain.  She only succeeded in letting the accursed liquid flow into her mouth, stinging her taste buds with the metallic taste.

            The man leaned forward so she could see his face.  And though scared as she was, she couldn't look away.  His eyes were a deep dark brown, almost black.  He was clean-shaven not long ago, the scraggly hairs less than an inch long.  His hair fell in long dark dreadlocks around his face, covered at his scalp by a familiar tri-corn hat.  His smile was a brilliant white with glints of gold every so often.  There were deep purple bags under his slightly bloodshot eyes.  She dismissed a slight sense of déjà vu that overpowered her.  

            His gold grin widened slightly, a mad glaze covering his eyes.

            She gasped as she realized where she had seen that smile tinged with gold, and that mad glaze before.

            "Jack?"

            It came as a whisper, and he started at the name.

            "What?"  He whispered back.  His expression showed no recognition of her.

            "Jack?" she asked again, and suddenly the urge to vomit increased tenfold, "Oh my God, Jack!"  she closed her eyes and let loose a sob she had been holding in for who knew how long.  It shook her body and a drip of blood fell from the small of her back, staining the dark wood below.

            He narrowed his eyes in confusion.  Then shook his dark shaggy head as if shaking off the last remnants of sleep.

            "'Lizabeth?"

            She gasped, somehow finding the nerve to open her eyes.  His eyes had softened and a look of shock and disgust crossed his face.  He dropped the sword that he had been holding to her neck.  Her eyes widened in shock, she hadn't even realized that he had been ready to slit her throat!

            The sword clanged loudly on the floor below.  Breaking the silence that had overtaken them.  

            As he released her body she felt herself sway on her feet, unable to stand on her own.  He caught her by the hand and placed her in a dirty wooden seat.  She cringed as the rough wood grazed the wound on her back

            He backed away slowly, covering his face with his hands as he did so.  He muttered into his hands, muffling his words.

            "Jack?"  she asked, her voice quavering slightly.  She found herself worrying about him, even though only moments before he had been intent on killing her.  He paced the deck, his head in his hands, muttering incoherently.  She wondered how the rest of the crew was faring, whether they were already dead, whether Jack had been the one to kill them.  To slit their throats as he had been ready to do to her.  She hated to admit that she had grown quite fond of them in the time she had been aboard.

            A blind panic erupted in her throat as thoughts of her fiancé overpowered her.  "WILL!"  she screamed, causing Jack to look up from his hands.  She gave him a chilling glare and jumped to her feet.  Staggering slightly, she ran to the disheveled pirate and pushed him, hard.

            He staggered backwards, the mast catching him before he fell.  It was in this position that Elizabeth rounded on him. 

            "WHAT THE _HELL_ DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?  WHERE IS WILL?  WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM!?  IF YOU HURT HIM I SWEAR I WILL TIE YOU UP—"

            "As temptin' as 'at sounds, love, I have done nothing to your precious William."  He said, returning to the man she once knew him as.  The ruthless man from before and the pacing, muttering man was not at all Captain Jack Sparrow.  

            "How do you know?!"  She demanded of him.  He did nothing to respond, but, instead, pulled an oddly shaped statue from his coat.  He stared at it with a look of disgust tinged with intrigue.

            Impatience welled itself inside her throat and she felt the urge to start screaming again.  He didn't seem to notice her, the statue suddenly becoming the only thing aboard the ship.

            "Yer William is below, assumin' he sleeps this time a' night.  As far as I know, the crew is unharmed, again, assumin' I haven't reached them before I saw ye."  He said in a hoarse whisper, not lifting his eyes from the small stone statue.  

            She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "What do you mean 'as far as you know'?"  She asked suspiciously, "why did you attack me?"

            He gave the small object one last withering look before returning it to his jacket.  He patted it to make sure it was secure before lifting his head skyward.

            "Y'know how long it's been since I've seen a kindly face such as yers, 'Lizbeth?"

            She gaped at him, unaware if he was avoiding the question or just trying to aggravate her further.  "Why did you attack me?"  She repeated, hoping for an honest answer.

            "There are so many questions."  He said, finally shifting his gave from the stars to her face, "I can't answer 'em all, love."  Again, he patted his jacket, checking to see if the object was still there.

            "I thought you were dead," she whispered, realizing for the first time that she was speaking to a supposedly dead man.

            He smiled, trying to cheer her up, "Can't be dead, now can I, love?  Standing right here, I am!"  He dropped his smile when he realized that this did not console her.  "To tell ya the truth, lass, I don't rightly know.  I don't remember a lot of what's been happenin' the past few months."

            She blinked, unable to see what this had to do with her attacking him, or why he was still alive for that matter.

            "Why not?  Shouldn't you?" 

            He sighed and gave her a withering look, "'S'your dream, love."

            She glared at him, letting her frustration at his cryptic answers show in her eyes.  "I'm not even going to begin to decipher what that might mean."

            He smiled toothily, picking up his cutlass from the floor.  He sheathed it and turned away from her, leaving her with one last message:

            "In the morning, I want ye to look at yer wrist, if there be a great black bull ingrained there go to see Will immediately.  Tell 'im to look fer the mark upon 'imself.  I will be in Port Royal soon to explain, but please Elizabeth, do as I say.  It is a matter of life an' death, fer all a' us."

            She had half a mind to tell him that they weren't _in _Port Royal.  Her anger, not entirely retreated, and her frustration, being at its peak caused her to groan audibly.  She wanted answers; she wanted to know why Jack had tried to kill her.

            And she was struck with a sudden thought.  What if that hadn't been Jack?

            He reached into his jacket and pulled out the oddly shaped statue again.  She couldn't make out the details from the angle she was at, but was surprised to notice that it was a brilliant shade of jade green, something she had overlooked when he had been holding it before.

            What if it had been some sort of thing in Jack's body?  Some sort of curse that had overridden his body.

            He took several steps away from her.  With every step he took it seemed like he was getting more and more…_transparent_.

            And then he was gone.

            It wasn't until Jack had completely disappeared from the deck that the edges of her peripheral vision began to get blurry, and then everything else as well.  As weird as this was to her, it was nothing to the sudden darkness followed by the sudden light that followed.

**A/N: You can tell where I was getting frustrated at the end…I just wanted to finish it!  So…yeah…review!  Seriously…I'm waiting.**


End file.
